A Broken Soul
by Kyra Hunter
Summary: Set in Season 5, possible spoilers but a twist on how the story unfolds. A guardian angel is picking up the pieces after the final battle. Lucifer is defeated, but is the war over? Can Dean recover before he's faced with a new threat?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own anything.

AN: Set technically during season 5, but only half of the season has been aired where I am so it's just my imagination about how the main story arc develops, not a spoiler!

* * *

She looked down at him. He did not look important. Yet, he had been the Archangel Michael's vessel. The battle had been won and Lucifer struck down before he found a way to use Sam Winchester as a vessel.

It had taken months for Dean to say yes. His reluctance had been grounded in the fear that he would be left as nothing but an empty shell. However, he knew he could not sacrifice the world for himself.

He had not been wrong about becoming a mere shell, but that was why she was here; to protect what was left of him. When an archangel like Michael leaves a vessel, the soul of that vessel wishes to remain close to the divine and tries to follow the archangel back to heaven. The soul shatters and is drawn to places and things that were important to them in their mortal life. Without a soul, the mortal body is useless, directionless. As a guardian angel she was connected to Michael and had been given the task of protecting Dean's body from the backlash of any demonic forces as he was in no state to protect himself. However, she had also been able to draw much of Dean's soul back to his body. Piece by piece, she had managed to restore Dean to near enough what he used to be, but there was still much work to do. He could function, he could walk and eat and drink. However, his strength had not fully returned, nor had the attitude that had had all of heaven gossiping.

Sam had been very helpful to her. The insight he had given her had enabled her to search in the right places. Right now, he slept; both of the Winchesters did.

Watching Sam for a moment, she returned her gaze to Dean. She lifted the back of her hand towards his face. He was a beautiful man, as mortal men could be.

"You care about him don't you, Lirael." A voice said from behind her.

"Castiel." She turned to face her brother. "Yes, I have to. I am his guardian and I care because Michael commanded it. You know that is why I am here."

The dark-haired angel smiled. "Yes, Lirael. You were sent by Michael to protect Dean from evil. You were not sent to restore his soul." He dug his hands into the pockets of his trench coat.

If she were truly able to blush, her cheeks would be the brightest shade of red. "Castiel, I am your superior; you must not speak to me this way."

"As you wish. But let me say this…Since God returned to the heavens and took his rightful place we are not bound as we once were. Metatron is no longer in charge." Castiel said to her with a happy sigh. She knew that he had struggled over the last two human years he had spent with the Winchester boys. He had fallen because of his affection for them and his rejection of the orders from heaven. At that time, Lirael had envied Castiel. She had not had the courage to question the orders she was given, even when she knew they were not coming from the true king of heaven.

Lirael folded her arms across her chest, preparing to retort with a snappy remark. "Well-"

"God, do you angels ever stop bickering?" Sam interrupted, wiping the sleep from his eye. With a quick smile to Lirael, Castiel left in the blink of an eye. "Don't you get tired of him doing that? Actually, scratch that. You do it too."

She cast him a smile and tucked a blonde curl behind her ear. "Did you sleep well?"

Sam stretched. "Yeah, I did actually. My arm hardly hurt at all." The night before last he had been badly injured by a demon. Lirael had warned him not to go alone, but she could not leave Dean alone. The demons were still quite angry at Lucifer's return to the bottom of the pit. The prophecy that Michael's vessel would have to kill Lucifer's true vessel in order to fully destroy the fallen angel had not came to pass, therefore Lucifer remained. However, he was trapped far deeper than he had been before, and with Lilith dead, the seals could not be rebroken.

"Yes, I healed you." Lirael said curtly, returning to her position at Dean's bedside. She wished for him to wake so she could look into his eyes. So much of her work with him had led her to see into the deepest depths of his memories and cognitions, and he was fascinating. The way he kept people at bay, especially women, when truly he was indeed quite sensitive, was most fascinating of all. She yearned to look inside him again.

"Oh…" she heard Sam say, barely. "Thanks. So…What's the plan today then? Are we doing any more soul-searching?"

"Hmm? Oh, I do not know. It seems as though Castiel does not approve. My orders are strictly just to protect, not heal." She stood and turned to Dean's brother,. His eyes widened, as they usually did when she stood tall. She knew she had picked a handsome woman as her vessel, but it was not just her physical form that seemed to affect the human males. Power radiated from her that often frightened and intrigued them. Lirael stretched and ran her fingers through her blonde, curly hair.

Sam rose from his bed and walked across the motel room to the table and chairs beside the kitchenette. "Right…so why are you helping him?"

The question hit her with a much larger force than she had anticipated. There was an odd feeling in her stomach and again she felt as though her cheeks might blush red. "I…um…I, I'm not sure." She said as honestly as she could. "I was not able to meet him before he became Michael's vessel. I am part of Michael and therefore wish to see what the fuss is about. That is all." This was again partly true, but she could see it in Sam's eyes that he did not believe her.

"Right…" Sam said before turning towards the bathroom. Lirael frowned and left the motel room in a whirl of angel wings. She did not like the way people kept making fun of her.

* * *

"Sammy? You still here?" Dean called in a gruff voice, rubbing his face in an attempt to wake himself up. Sam poked his head out from the bathroom.

"Yes, I'm still here. Bobby hasn't called with any more jobs, so we're fine here for now."

Dean let out a sigh and pulled himself up until he was sitting on the bed. It still took him a long time to really feel awake these days, but he was beginning to feel more like himself every day. "Where's Lirael?" he asked, rubbing his eyes. He had a headache already.

"She skipped a few minutes ago, think I pissed her off."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Well that's great Sammy, let's piss off the only angel willing to help me. Awesome. Back to vegetable-land for me." He said, walking to the window and checking that the Impala was still in one piece. Nobody was willing to let him drive yet, and he missed his baby.

Sam walked fully into the room and dried his face with the towel he was holding. "Look, it's not my fault that she likes you and won't admit it."

"Yeah, right. I'm sure angels get the gooeys for humans all the time. What with them being emotionless an' all. " The thought of it still sent a chill down his spine. Lirael had picked one hot body to park herself in. Yeah, she was a little creepy, but all angels had this way about them that was a bit too Stepford Wives for his liking. Despite that, it hadn't stopped him thinking about it. Her blonde curls framed high cheekbones…round, kissable-looking lips...and that body…He realised he had drifted off into a fantasy world all on his own, coughed and gave Sam a jokey glare.

"Okay, okay. But you just watch, man. She was watching you sleep." Sam said with a thick laugh. His cell phone began to vibrate in his pocket so he pulled it out and flipped it open to answer it. "Hey Bobby, what's up?"


	2. Chapter 2

There was another job for them to do one state over in Colorado; vampire nest that was demolishing half the town's teenage population. Sam wondered how much longer he could force Dean to continue his bed rest; he could tell he was starting to get agitated. His big brother sure did like giving as much hell to the evil that continually threatened the world, even if he had died once or twice in the process. Lirael still didn't show her face the whole way there, but Castiel popped in about an hour into the drive to offer his assistance. As usual, the angel was his chatty self.

"You spoken with Lirael yet, Cas?" Dean asked, turning his head to the back seat. "Sam said he made her mad."

A smile spread across Castiel's face and he caught Sam's eye in the rear view mirror. "I may have teased her a little myself."

"Oh that's just peachy; she'll never fix me now."

"Who won't?" a female voice said, as Lirael appeared inside the car behind Dean. She was smiling gently, avoiding Castiel's gaze.

Sam glanced at Dean, and saw a flash of relief cross his features. What the hell was going on with them two?

Lirael touched Sam on the shoulder. "I found another piece, when we find a place of rest I would like to restore it as soon as possible." As she spoke, a different message was being transmitted into Sam's head. '_I am running out of places to look and there is much of Dean's soul missing.' _

Sam glanced at her, trying to keep his eye on the road at the same time. "Yeah, sure. Just let me know what you need."

When they reached The Sunshine Motel of Blue River, Colorado, Dean's stomach was doing somersaults. He knew what was coming. Even though he knew it was always a good thing when Lirael found a new part of his soul scattered across the country, he knew he was going to have to lay all of his cards on the table again. Every time she restored a new piece, put another bit of him back together, he knew that she could see everything. I mean, she had to touch his soul to fix it. And that scared him.

She knew everything. Every scar, every wound…every scream.

He had never had to be like that with anyone. He liked being aloof, nobody knowing all his business. Being honest with people tended just to get you hurt. That's why he cracked the jokes and chased after every woman he could get his hands on. Dean didn't want to think about his past or the things he'd done, and if distracting himself with boobs and punch lines was gonna help him do that, then hell, that's what he was gonna do.

At least until Michael used him as a vessel and left him with a guardian angel that was intent on making him face up to what he was.

As they entered the room, Dean through his pack on the bed and pursed his lips together in an attempt to control the tension that had spread through his body like a cold fire. He felt her presence behind him and he shivered. Clearing his throat, he turned around and rubbed the stubble on his face with his hand.

She looked at him with these bright, excited eyes and he wondered what the hell she was getting out of this.

"Let's get this the hell over with." Dean told her curtly.

A smile passed her lips and she leaned forward to breath in his ear, "I bet you say that to all the girls…"

Dean's eyes widened. Jeez, this woman was going to kill him. He didn't know if she did it on purpose, but not only was she smoking hot, she had to come out with these lines in a way that…well in a way that definitely set his cogs a'turning. He shifted his weight to the other foot in an attempt to rearrange himself.

Lirael let out a quiet laugh before grabbing his hand. "Come and sit with me." She said, pulling him down to sit on the floor. She reached for the vial she carried around her neck and pulled it over her head. The vial was glowing brightly as it always did when its contents were so pure. Dean took a deep breath and braced himself. He reached out and took the vial from Lirael, his fingers briefly touching hers. His heart was beating so fast he thought it was gonna burst. Lirael smiled. "It's okay, Dean." She told him, taking his spare hand in hers and interlocking their fingers. "We won't have to do this for much longer." A part of him felt saddened by that thought. In a twisted way, he sorta liked sharing this with someone. She never treated him any differently, no matter what memories invaded their minds during the process of reconnecting each part back to him.

Dean let out a short sigh, lifted the vial to his lips and tipped it back. The sparkling fluid stung his tongue like it always did, but Lirael squeezed his hand and he forgot all about the pain. The vial dropped to the floor and Dean clutched his chest as the pain intensified. Lirael pressed her hand against his, over his heart. He heard her speak the words of the ritual, but his mind was racing too fast to really hear her. The flashes and visions of the past zoomed in and out of his head, and at that point he knew that she was inside there with him. These memories seemed to be all about his teenage years, and they whirled through his head like a hurricane.

Suddenly, there was a clear image. Truman High School. The image moved to a guy and a girl arguing in the corridor. He couldn't quite make out what they were saying, but he knew the conversation. He'd played it over and over in his mind enough times to know that what Amanda was saying_. __"I was wrong. You spend so much time trying to convince people that you're cool, but it's just an act. We both know that you're just a sad, lonely little kid. And I feel sorry for you, Dean."_

Dean's stomach churned as he heard his teenage self shout back, _"Don't feel sorry for me. You know nothing about me. I save lives. I'm a hero. A hero!". _He had felt humiliated, guilty, exposed and more than anything, angry. Feeling Lirael's presence there with him only made it more degrading.

A few other images and sounds took over, and he found himself squirming against Lirael's hand. And then it was over and he fell backwards, breathless and exhausted.

Dean opened his eyes, and they were met with the blue ones of his guardian angel. She smiled at him gently, stroked his face and disapparated from the room. He took a few moments to be alone and still with his thoughts, and got up to take a shower to clear his head.

~~~~~***

"Is there a reason you're staring at me, beautiful?"

Lirael blinked a few times and refocused her gaze onto Dean's eyes. She heard Sam chuckle from behind her. "I…um…you have an aesthetically pleasing face."

"Sadly, restoring my soul has not given me a better vocabulary so I don't know what means." Dean said, taking a few steps towards her. He was not long out of the shower, and had nothing on but a towel around his waist. Lirael absently licked her lips as her eyes wandered across his toned body. He whistled. "Eyes up here, sweetheart; you're making me feel cheap." He joked, a cheeky smile crossing his lips.

She tilted her head to one side. "Sorry. Since being allowed to feel again…There are many things that I have had to suppress…to forget…and you are…handsome. For a mortal." Lirael saw him give a smug little nod. He was becoming increasingly arrogant; a trait that he had held in abundance before becoming a vessel, according to Castiel. At least that meant their work together was still helping him.

Sam laughed again, and left the motel room to settle the bill and pack up the car.

Lirael crossed the remaining distance between herself and Dean Winchester. His scent made her heart beat quicken, and that sickly feeling returned to her stomach. He recoiled slightly, but then stood up straighter, pulling the towel tighter around his waist. Her heightened hearing told her that his heart rate had also accelerated, and she had no doubt where that blood was going to. He was nothing if not a hot-blooded male.

"You're pretty freaking scary you know." He was looking at her intensely, looking into her eyes as if searching for something inside of them.

"I apologise. I will not look at you again." Lirael took half a step backwards and moved her gaze to the floor, but Dean closed the space between them regardless.

"No, that's not what I mean. Stare at the goods as much as you want. What I mean is…there's something about you…that scares me." He struggled to find the words he wanted, and this frustrated him, causing his eyebrows to furrow in a frown. "Like the power you have over me…you've picked up nearly every piece of me that exploded when Michael left my body. How do I know you won't take it all back?"

She smiled, raising the back of her hand to his cheek. The warmth of his skin was simply delicious to her, but she took an even breath to try to calm herself down. "I would never harm you or cause you any discomfort. I like helping you. I like knowing things about you that nobody else does. Nobody else sees your beauty but me." Lirael said softly, stroking his cheek.

She saw him gulp and a flash of confusion moved across his features. He looked away from her, cleared his throat, and took her hand away from his face. "That's 'cause there's none there. We both know the things I've done." Dean let go of Lirael's hand and hung his head.

The angel felt a pang of pain jolt through her. She could not stand seeing him suffer. Not after everything he had been through, everything he had seen…If only she could heal him, truly heal him…

Lirael cupped Dean's face with both hands, ignored the angered look in his eyes and pressed her lips softly to his. With all of her might she wished for Dean to be healed, for his pain to go away and his suffering to end. A bright white light encompassed the room as Lirael moved her lips against Dean's as she felt him respond to her kiss. His hand moved to the small of her back and he pulled her closer to his hips. A rejuvenating sensation spread through her body, into Dean's and she felt it expanding to the rest of the motel room.

"Dean! Dean, you ok?" Sam yelled, bursting through the door. The interruption gave Lirael a shock and she transported herself from the room as fast as possible leaving Dean to tumble forward. The younger Winchester caught his brother before he fell. "Dean, what did she do to you? You ok? Talk to me!"

Dean took a deep breath and stood up straight, shaking his brother's arm from him. "I'm fine, you pansy, stop getting girly all on me. Soon you'll be wanting us to share our feelings, have a pyjama party and discuss who's the hottest Backstreet Boy." He looked down at himself and spotted the towel at his feet. "Huh."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"Sammy, just leave it alone." Dean spat, pulling on his jeans and a t-shirt.

"No, Dean. I want to know what she did to you. You guys were literally shining." Sam pleaded with Dean, but his brother was being oblivious as always to the potential danger.

"Whatever it was, it's got my appetite back. I feel like I haven't eaten for my whole life." Dean paused for a moment and pursed his lips together. "I think I want some pie. You coming?"

Sam rolled his eyes. If he wasn't thinking about getting laid, Dean was thinking about food. "Fine. But you're going to tell me what happened." They left the motel room and walked round the corner to the diner they'd went to nearly every night this week. Finding a booth in the corner, Dean had his eyes straight on the menu. Sam sighed in frustration. "So, what was it like?"

"What was what like? The pie here better be awesome, or I'm putting in a bad word with the big man upstairs now that he's back in the driving seat." Dean chuckled. Sam reached across the table, slammed down the menu and gave Dean an exasperated look. "What? It was nothing. It was just a kiss, she didn't kill me; in fact it was kinda hot, but I'm fine. I'm better than fine. I feel better than I have in weeks, Sam. Let me enjoy it for a half an hour before you make everything all angsty and complicated like you always do."

Sam rolled his eyes. He honestly didn't know why he bothered. Dean was impossible to talk to sometimes. When it came to matters of the heart, Dean rarely let anything slip. God, it had taken him weeks to tell Sam the truth about Hell. There'd be glimpses every now and then, but then Dean would make fun of Sam's 'girly' parts and change the subject.

The waitress came and took their order, and as usual Dean ordered enough food for a small elephant. As he dug in to his apple pie, Sam tried to take a different angle.

"Did she say anything about how much longer this whole things gonna take?"

Dean shook his head. "Nope."

"'Cause it'll be nice when it's just us again, you know? She sorta creeps me out a little."

"Why? Don't you like her?"

Sam gave a shrug and tried to keep a straight face. "No, it's not that…she's just all business all the time."

Dean shoveled a spoonful of pie into his mouth and looked at Sam. "Look, she's helping me, okay? And you know what the angel's are like. They're either evil or have the social skills of a donkey. She's cool underneath it all."

Sam held his hands up. "Sorry man, I'm not dissing your girlfriend." He said with a grin.

Dean pointed a finger at his brother and raised his eyebrows. "Don't make me hurt you."

* * *

They'd managed to pin down the most likely place for the nest, so Sam and Castiel were going to take it out around dawn. However, Dean was not appreciative of being left out even though he was feeling a lot better.

"Dean you're not coming." Castiel told him firmly. "You're not even supposed to be walking around after what you've been through." The angel nodded at Sam and the two left, leaving Dean and Lirael alone in the motel room.

"You sure we should leave those two alone?" Sam asked as they got into the Impala.

Castiel smiled, but said nothing.

They reached the docks about thirty minutes before the sun was scheduled to rise. Sam hoped it would give them an advantage, perhaps make the vamps disorientated if they were exposed to or near the sunlight. Most of the warehouses down here were busy, people were milling around, loading crates up onto the ships that were docked.

But there was one, a little further away from the rest that seemed a little too quiet in such a lively working dock. Sam nodded his head in the direction and the angel and the hunter went to check it out.

Castiel disapparated in order for an ambush to be more successful, leaving Sam alone to find a way inside. However, as he peeked through the dirty, cracked window in the door, he saw the vampires lined up in his direction.

"Oh Sam!" One of the called. It was never good when they knew your name. And it was never good when they were waiting for you. The hunter cursed under his breath and chewed on the inside of his lip. He wished Dean was there with him, he'd call him stupid and tell him they'd find another way to kill the vampires. Walking into a trap was just suicide.

Sam was itching for a fight though. Ever since Lirael had healed him a few nights before, he'd felt like he was on top form. He needed another good fight – plus, he had an angel on his side.

Letting out a quick breath, Sam pulled the machete from his coat and readied himself to go in.

Sparks flew all around as the heavy iron door scraped against the concrete floor as Sam pushed it open. He thought his heart was going to burst out of his chest, but he worked hard to keep his face controlled and hard. There were about ten vampires lined up in front of him, and the one who had called him stood in the middle of them. Well at least he knew who the ringleader was.

"You rang?" Sam said arrogantly, forcing a smile to pass his lips.

This obviously wasn't the reaction the vamps were after as he heard a number of low growls come from the mass of vampires before him.

"Yes, thanks so much for coming. I wasn't sure how many kids I was going to have to kill to get you here." The vampire licked his fangs, his eyes wild.

Sam held his arms out wide. "I'm here now, aren't I? What do you want?"

"I'm gonna suck you dry, Winchester. And then Baal is going to find your brother and have some fun." The vampire said, his companions laughing and growling as a group. The leader looked around him, and nodded to a couple of the vamps.

Sam gritted his teeth together and gripped his machete all the more tightly.

A female vampire to his left darted forward, fangs and claw-like nails bared. Sam quickly stepped to one side and used her momentum to make her stumble forward. He used this moment to hack off her head. The sound of her head hitting the floor made the other vampires recoil.

Sam saw Castiel appear behind the vampires on the other side of the warehouse, and the angel gave Sam a slow nod. Two more vampires rushed towards him, but Sam parried as best he could, taking any opportunity to slice off as many limbs (and hopefully heads) as he could. Castiel on the other hand was ripping heads off of vampires with ease, and apparently enjoying it. He had grown accustomed to being a hands-off sort of soldier, but fighting evil with his bare hands was something he was growing to like.

The two of them fought until there was no one left but the leader of the coven, who growled.

Sam snorted and closed most of the distance between them until they were about two meters apart. He rearranged his grip of the machete and wiped some blood from his brow.

"You can either die quickly, or die slowly," Sam told him, pulling out a syringe of dark red liquid. "Tell me about Baal and I'll show you mercy. If you don't, you can die slowly and painfully."

* * *

He found himself looking at her, and totally losing track of what she was saying. He felt calm around her, and he didn't know why. He watched her lips move, inviting him in. A smile crept across his lips as his eyes wandered over her face. Dean leant across the table to kiss her, but the angel tilted her head to one side. He had realized she did that whenever someone was contacting her.

She took his hand and squeezed it, smiling at him. "I've got to go. One of my old charges needs help."

"Charges?"

"Yes, as a guardian angel I am sworn to protect all my charges. You are one of them. I'm sorry; I'll be back as soon as I can. If you need me, just call out to me and I'll find you." Lirael said, standing up. She bent down, kissed Dean softly on the lips and disappeared.

"I hate it when they do that." Dean muttered.

* * *

Days passed and Lirael still hadn't been back and Dean was feeling more than a little restless. He paced the motel room that he had been stuck in for the past week, occasionally pulling at his hair. There was a feeling in his stomach that was frightening the hell out of him.

He'd called, shouted, screamed, begged…but she obviously wasn't listening. Or couldn't come back.

Sam was researching omens connected to the demon that the leader of the vampire nest had named and shamed to see if it checked out. They'd never seen different types of evil rallying together before. Usually they stuck to their own kinds.

Castiel had explained that Baal was more of a legend than a known demon. The name had been used in so many different cultures and religions, it was hard to tease apart the myths from the truths. Baal had often been another name for Satan in some faiths, but in others it was the name for the highest ranking demon. And they didn't like the sound of that. They thought that can of worms had been tackled already with Lilith. Even Cas was confused, so he'd visited the management upstairs.

"As far as I can tell, there's only the usual stuff, unexplained murders and sightings of things that shouldn't exist. Nothing like when Lilith had ever surfaced." Sam called, scrolling through pages and pages of news reports for the county. He even widened the search to the state, but still there were no omens as such.

"So what does that tell us?" Dean asked, moving to stand behind Sam. He didn't know what to do with himself.

"Well either the vamp was bluffing. Or, Baal doesn't have the same effect on a place that Lilith did."

"Meaning…?" He could feel his patient slipping away and his temperature rising. He wasn't sure how much longer he could sit and wait when it felt like a part of his soul was being dragged in a different direction.

"I dunno." His younger brother shrugged, closing the laptop and spinning round in his chair.

"That's just not good enough! What if something's happened to her? I'm not losing her, Sam!"


	4. Chapter 4

It was a beautiful day.

The meadow was simply sparkling with sunshine and life. Mountain ranges surrounded the large expanse of grassland and flowers, and he sighed. He absent-mindedly touched the petals of a purple flower beside him, and looked around him.

She was walking across the field towards him, in a white dress that was flowing behind her in the gentle breeze. Her golden hair was shining as brightly as the sun. She was beautiful. He smiled and stood up, taking a deep breath. He felt revived and invigorate somehow, relieved of a hidden plague.

"I wasn't sure I'd see you again." He said as she reached her hands out to him. Grasping them, he noticed how cold they were.

"We don't have much time, Dean." She said firmly, and the look on her face frightened him.

Dean blinked a few times, and became aware of a throbbing pain in his head. The pit in his stomach returned. "What d'ya mean?" He then noticed that there were tears rolling down her cheeks and her lips were trembling. "Lirael, what's wrong?"

She stepped towards him so that their bodies were touching, and put her hands against his chest. "I'm scared." She whispered into his ear. "It hurts so much to be away from you and I don't know why." Dean understood what she meant, now that she was in-front of him his heart felt calmer. Despite this, the adrenaline pumping through his veins told him that there was something deeply wrong and he had to stay focused. "The demons are going to try to get to you through me; they think that we are connected."

"I don't –" He felt so confused, why was she so upset if they were finally together again?

"Whatever you do," She interrupted. "Do not come for me. Castiel must find the remaining shards of your soul or you'll remain too vulnerable. I am dispensable, you are not."

"That's not true, Lirael, please-"Dean pleaded, holding her arms and looking deep into her eyes. The angel forced a smile and opened her mouth to speak, but she started fading in front of him. "No, stay with me!" She was still trying to speak but Dean couldn't work out what she was saying as she continued fading into nothingness. She was soon gone and Dean was left alone with the perfect day.

When Dean woke in his bed, he was yelling out for her.

* * *

Her eyes fluttered open, but it felt easier to keep them closed. Every inch of her felt bruised and broken.

Blinking her eyes a few times, she tried to force her eyes to stay open.

The wall straight ahead of her was made of concrete, but was moss-lined. There was a table in front of her, but her eyes were unable to focus on whatever was shining upon it. There was little else in the room except a door that was behind her to the left. She thought it was a safe assumption that she was probably underground. She always felt suffocated when she was beneath the earth, a reminder that she belonged in a much higher plane. There was no one with her as far as she could tell, but her senses felt woozy. Whatever they had done to her, it was powerful, even for her.

She tried to move, but realised she was tied to a chair with some sort of metal rope that was scraping against her pearly skin. However, it stung to struggle against it so she resigned herself to the fact that she was stuck. This resignation was reinforced when she noticed the ring of flame burning around her. Luckily, there was enough distance between her and the flame for the heat to not affect her, but this was no comfort; they knew who she was.

She tried to remember the last thing that had happened before she had woken up, but everything was hazy. Images of Dean appeared, though fuzzy, and being surrounded by beautiful countryside…The back of her head suddenly felt sore, and she realized that she had been hit from behind. She remembered that she had been looking for the charge that had summoned her, when she was attacked. This thought did nothing to soothe her. It is not easy to hurt an angel, never mind knock them unconscious.

A bead of sweat trickled down her forehead.

There was someone coming. Someone who emanated waves of power from their being.

Lirael realized that she was in a great deal of trouble.

Castiel had his hand on Dean's shoulder. "Please, I need you to calm down."

Dean shook the angel's hand away and turned around. "I can't calm down, okay? She's hurt. It feels like I've stabbed in the chest a thousand times, and believe me I know that feeling very well." Dean was tearing at his hair and his clothes, but nothing could soothe the terror and anguish he was feeling.

Castiel sighed. Dean had been in so much pain over the last 24 hours, pain that was inexplicable and consistent. The angel had had to use his abilities to numb the pain so that at least it was bearable. The truth was Castiel didn't know how to tell Dean what was going on. If Lirael really was subject to this much agony, then the foe they were up against was of a different caliber to other demons, even Lilith. Perhaps Baal was real. "I understand, but we need to figure out our next move." He told Dean as gently as he could, but his brow was furrowed in a worried frown.

"Our next move? God, Castiel. Come on!" Dean shouted, kicking a chair across the room in fury. "I need to find her."

"I understand that, and we will, but didn't you say that she thought it was a trap?" The angel said, trying to reason with somebody that he knew did not think with a rational state of mind. He had been trying for what seemed like a lifetime to make Dean see the bigger picture and it had only worked once; when Dean agreed to be Michael's vessel. "I agree that we should continue the search for the rest of your soul before trying to find her."

Sam then came through the door of the motel room with his cell phone to his ear. "Thanks, Bobby. Let me know if you find anything else." He said, snapping the phone shut. "We might have something. Bobby said that there's been some electrical shortages over the last day across the state," Sam went to the table and looked through the papers that had been scattered across until he found a map of Colorado. Dean looked at him across the table, his face a picture of pain and desperation. "But, the power's gone out in almost straight lines, not by blocks or grids," he explained, taking a pen out of his pocket. He began to draw several lines on the map, all pointing to one section of the map. "All across Colorado the power outages point to here, a place called Georgetown."

"But why electricity?" Castiel interjected, his eyes looking laboriously across the map. "Problems with electricity are normally associated with spirits, are they not?"

"Usually, yeah, but it's a lead."

Dean starting putting on his jacket. "Come on then, let's go." Sam and Castiel just stood there looking at each other. "I said, let's go." He said through gritted teeth, his fury nothing but apparent.

"I'm sorry, Dean, but we need to think about this. If this Baal is as bad-ass as we think, we can't just go charging in there, it'd be suicide."

"There's going to be a homicide in this very room if you don't get your ass in the car, Sam." Dean growled, squaring up to his younger brother.

"I hoped it wouldn't come to this." Castiel said with a sigh, walking up to Dean and tapping him on the forehead. Immediately, Dean fell to the ground unconscious. The angel knelt down, picked him up and carried him to one of the twin beds. Sam raised his eyebrows. "We don't have time for arguing. You and I are going to scour this planet together for your brother's soul. Then, we will find Lirael." Castiel hoped with his entire heart that the two were not connected, though his instinct was telling him that it was certainly a distinct possibility.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Dean was seeking her out again. There was always a dull throbbing in his chest when she wasn't around, and it got worse the further away she was.

He knew he was dreaming, but he couldn't force himself to wake up. It did not feel like a regular sleep; it didn't feel like it belonged to him. He recognised the handy-work as being of angel-like proportions.

"Lirael?" He called out, suddenly realising that he was walking down the central aisle of a large church. There was nobody in the pews and the church hall was quiet. Sun streamed through the large stained glass windows, cascading light of various colours across the floor. Above the altar, a large golden cross was hanging. Beneath it, the candles at the altar were lit and flickering.

"No, Dean, there's just me." A voice said, as a dark figure came out of the confessional box to Dean's left.

"Yeah, and who might you be?" Dean asked, instinctively reaching into his inside jacket pocket for a weapon, but there were none there.

The figure turned to Dean and smiled. "I have many names." He said, walking towards the altar. The man had short dark hair, and was dressed in a smart black suit. Dean felt like he recognised him, but couldn't quite place his face.

Dean followed him slowly, wishing he had some way of protecting himself, even in his own dream. "Well, how about we just work with the one then."

"Very well. Recently, you may have known me as Metatron."

Dean blinked. "I thought Michael killed you." As far as he knew, Metatron had been killed in battle. After Lucifer had been defeated, Michael had used Dean's body as a means to destroy the fallacy that had been leading heaven. Metatron was the most powerful angel anyone had ever come across. Tricking his way into God's throne in heaven, he had kept locked God up somewhere. Only when Metatron was defeated had God been released and restored to his rightful place. Since then, the angels had been brought back in line and had found some morals again.

Metatron laughed. "Not quite…" he murmured, kneeling before the altar. The angel lifted his arms into the air in prayer. Dean kept walking until he was no further than two metres away from him. "You cannot kill something as old as I, nor Lucifer, Dean. Power like that is not erased, just displaced. All your little trick did was pop Lucifer back in his cage."

"Thanks for the update, but I already caught that memo." Dean spat, looking for exits. The walls of the church became blurry and seemed to bend inwards for a moment.

"This place is under my will, Dean. You cannot leave until I wish it so." Metatron stood up, and turned to the eldest Winchester.

Dean felt the waves of power emanating from him, and he couldn't help feeling a little scared. His stomach ached again, and he was vaguely aware of somebody causing pain to him. Dean's heart began to pound, and his head began to throb. "What are you doing to me?"

"Oh, it's not me. Well, not directly. It seems that whenever I hurt her, it hurts you. It's rather quite amusing" Metatron mused, chuckling somewhat. The angel reached under his shirt and pulled out a vial from around his neck. Inside was a glowing liquid. "And this? It took me a long time to find this."

Dean gasped as he realised what it was, and more pain ripped through him. Doubling over, he tried to talk. "Where is she?" He fell to his knees, and clawed at the carpet in an attempt to control the pain that was burning through his chest and stomach.

"Don't worry, Dean. You'll be reunited soon. You just have to tell me where the rest of your soul is. Without your soul, Michael cannot use you as a vessel. And thankfully, another vessel won't be born for another thousand years." Metatron knelt down beside him, a smile plastered onto his handsome face.

"I don't know where it is! I've pretty much been as conscious as a door knob until a couple weeks ago!" Dean said in a strained voice.

The angel waved his hand and flipped Dean onto his back. "I don't really have time to play games. You have until tomorrow to find me the remaining pieces. You will meet me at the place to where the signs are pointing. Tomorrow at dusk." Metatron reached forward and touched Dean's forehead with a finger.

With that, Dean's eyes snapped open and he sat up like a shot, gasping for breath. "Castiel!" He yelled, standing up and looking around him. Adrenaline was pumping through his body like a rocket, and he felt like his heart was going to burst out his chest.

Dean was scared.

* * *

Sam and Castiel casually walked through the door, speaking with one another about their victory. They'd managed to find a bit of Dean's soul, and were rather proud of themselves.

"Where the HELL have you two been?" Dean shrieked, rushing towards Castiel and grabbing hold of his jacket. "I've been calling you for hours." He spat, pushing the angel away from him and turning around, tearing at his hair.

"Dean, what is it?" Sam asked gently, giving Castiel a puzzled look and cautiously walking towards his brother with his hands out. Castiel had assured him that Dean wouldn't be able to wake up from the sleep that the angel had put him in.

"It's Metatron. He wants me to hand over my soul." Dean said quietly, collapsing into a chair with a grunt, and holding his head in his hands.

"Metatron? I thought Michael destroyed him?" Sam looked at Castiel, but noticed that the angel was as shocked by the news as he was.

"Apparently not. He's the one who's been hurting Lirael, to get to me. And I think its working." Dean lifted up his shirt to reveal a multitude of wounds and cuts across his stomach. He sniffed, obviously trying not to show how much pain he was in and Sam winced.

"What did he say to you? I need you tell me everything, exactly as it happened." Castiel ordered, with fiery rage in his eyes.

Sam and Castiel sat around the table with Dean, who told them what had happened with tears in his eyes.

After Dean had finished, they sat in silence, processing the information.

Sam broke the silence first with a cough, and then said, "Baal and Metatron…they're the same person, aren't they?" He questioned.

"All this time…he wanted Lucifer out of the way, so he could rule Hell himself." Castiel proposed, blinking slowly. "How could we not see this? I must tell my father." He said, standing. "I shall return before morning. You must both rest." And with that, the angel disappeared in a whirl of angel wings.

Dean let out a whimper. "Sammy, this is just all too much."

"I know, man. I can't believe he's got parts of your soul. You know, it was probably him who put us on that plane and brought Cas back to life."

Dean sighed, clenching his fists together. "That's not what I mean. I don't want to fight anymore. I thought that after Michael did his business that I wouldn't have to face any of this again. I thought I was done." He tried to take a deep breath, but the wounds on his chest made it difficult, and he groaned slightly.

He could tell that Sam didn't really like what he was hearing, but it wouldn't change how he felt. Dean just didn't have the energy. Ever since he'd regained consciousness and use of his body, he'd felt drained. The only short-term fix for that was having Lirael beside him, or when she restored another bit of his soul. And he hadn't had either of those things for over a week.

"Dean, you can't just give up." Sam told him with a frown.

"Why not? The guy was playing God for nearly a thousand years and no one even batted an eyelid? What chance do we have?"

Sam scratched his head, obviously thinking about what he should say to his big brother. "Well, we have to try. What about Lirael? You want to just leave her there?"

Dean's heart sank when he said her name. Throughout his insides he could feel various emotions wanting to burst out and be expressed, but he couldn't bare the thought of being in any more pain. Instead, it was expressed with anger. He jumped out of his chair and tried to throw a punch at his brother. "Don't you dare talk about her!" Sam parried, and caught Dean's hands before they made contact with his face. With a swift movement, Sam managed to wrestle Dean face down on the floor. Dean wriggled for a few moments, but gave up. "I can't…it hurts too much." He cried, tears pouring from his eyes. He was only too glad that his little brother couldn't see his face. "If she dies…He tried again to wriggle from his brother's hold, but he didn't have the energy. Letting out a short sob, Dean gritted his teeth. He gave in and stopped struggling.

"We're gonna fix this, okay, Dean? We're gonna get you fixed and we're gonna get Lirael back safe, okay?" Sam soothed, letting go of his grip on Dean's wrist. He pulled his brother up from the floor and helped him over to one of the twin beds of the motel room.

As Dean collapsed onto the bed, exhaustion took over and within moments, he was asleep again.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Castiel could not believe he had been so blind. His Father had expressed no disappointment, but Castiel was still sure he should have remained focused on the bigger picture, and not on the blossoming love story before him.

His Father had quietened his worries, and although Castiel was not feeling confident, he knew that they would be watched over. The Lord had not seemed concerned by the developing events, and remained hopeful that his creations would figure things out on their own. Dean Winchester would again be tested, and this was heart-rending to Castiel. Had the boy not been through enough?

Metatron, or Baal, was a fallen angel. After ruling under Lucifer as Baal in Hell, he manipulated his way back into Heaven. He eventually gained control of Heaven, though the Lord had not yet explained how this was possible, and spent hundreds of years toying with the lives of others. Having grown bored of manipulating the angels, Metatron's sights turned on Hell. He believed that the demons would make for more interesting sport when pitted against the humans, and he began planning his upheaval of Lucifer. Metatron instigated the apocalypse, believing it to be his only chance to ensure that Lucifer could rule Hell no more.

Castiel was just glad that he now had a direct link with his Father. Instead of just working on blind faith, his work with the Winchesters had ensured that he could gain council with the Lord if he should ever need it.

He journeyed back to the large motel room that they were staying in, but both of them appeared to be asleep.

For Dean's sake, he hoped that they could find the remaining pieces of his soul. He had yet to fuse the piece that still hung around his neck back to the elder Winchester.

A broken soul was said to be one of the most horrific experiences a person could endure. To have a broken soul and be conscious of it, meant that you were without the connection to the higher powers and the collective strength of the Heavens. It was to feel completely alone in the world; vulnerable. It saps you of all your strength.

When you are without a soul, you are without the conscience and insight necessary to really understand what this means…but a broken soul was to feel as though God had turned his back on you.

Castiel shivered.

He walked over to the bed that Dean was sleeping in. "Dean, wake up." The angel said gently, touching him on the shoulder.

Dean stirred and his eyes were suddenly open and alert for danger. "Cas."

"I have a piece of your soul to restore. I would like to do it now."

Dean sighed, but swung his legs out the side of the bed and sat up. He wiped his eyes and glanced at the clock. It was 4am, but Castiel did not see any point in putting this process off any longer. Castiel had not performed this task before, and he was a little nervous.

"Stand up."

Dean stood and walked to the middle of the room, grinding his teeth together.

Castiel narrowed his eyes and began.

* * *

Metatron laughed, wiping the blade of his knife with a handkerchief that he put back into his suit pocket. "You will have to tell me eventually. Apart from this little shred around my neck, there are two more pieces of Dean's soul. And you know where they are."

Lirael coughed, a little blood escaping and splashing upon her lips. "I swear to you, I do not know where they are." She clenched her fists and tried again in vain to fight against the metal restraints around her wrists.

Metatron could not help but let out a snort. "I am more powerful than your God. Do you really expect to escape from me?"

She bowed her head and licked her lips. "He escaped from you. He will come for me, and he will defeat you." Lirael said darkly, raising her eyes to him.

"Without Dean and Michael, he cannot. Which is why I need to ensure that Dean dies. And with you here, my sweet, delicious Lirael, that is sure to happen soon."

"He won't come for me, he doesn't even care for me. We barely speak except when I need to restore a piece of his soul." She said casually, shifting in her chair and trying to avoid his gaze.

"Hmm. Yes, and clearly you have no feelings for him either." Metatron ran his finger down the blade of the knife and walked behind her. Bending down, he put his mouth against her ear. "I only have to mention his name and your heart starts to pound against your chest."

The beat of her heart quickened. Metatron smiled and dipped his lips to her neck, letting his tongue slip out to taste her glistening skin. He liked her strength. With a few more decades he would have been able to persuade her to commit to his cause.

Metatron stood suddenly and cocked his head to once side for a few moments. Castiel had restored one of the last pieces. That left two shards and Dean would be restored, leaving him free to be a vessel once more. A growl erupted from his throat and he paced the room.

He took a deep, long breath as he thought about what to do next. Metatron stopped and looked at Lirael. Gripping the hilt of the knife, he drove it deep into Lirael's chest. With a grunt and a cruel smile he twisted it until she screamed for mercy.

"You will tell me, Lirael."

"No!" She shrieked, tears streaming down her blood-stained cheeks.

* * *

"No!" Dean screamed, sitting bolt up-right and writhing against the arms of Castiel that were holding him still. He couldn't remember how he had ended up on the wiry carpet of the motel room floor, but he knew that she needed him.

"Dean, it's ok." Castiel said soothingly, but Dean wasn't listening. He was listening to Lirael. She was in complete despair. Dean didn't think he could hurt more than he did right now, but hearing her call out for him…tears spilled from his eyes and he cried out in pain.

The door clicked open, and he was aware that Sam had entered the room. "Dean? Cas what's going on?_"_ He could hear his brother's voice, but it sounded so far away.

All that mattered was that he needed to be close to her. It wasn't just that she was in pain now and calling for him, he needed to be near her and to touch her.

"He's hurting her again, but there's only two pieces left to restore, Sam. We have to stay focused. Metatron has one, but we need to find the other." As Castiel and Sam kept talking, Dean was trying to pull himself to his feet. Everything felt fuzzy and distant.

"But you've looked everywhere, I can't sense anything else and neither can you. Hey, wait, Dean, where are you going?"

He staggered towards the door, shaking off the hands that were trying to pull him back. Dean held back another cry and pushed forward. It felt like he was being ripped in two, maybe it was because he was so close to being whole again. Or maybe it was because of her…

Even if it meant dying, Dean was going to get to her.

To be continued….


	7. Chapter 7

He was getting used to the pain now, that or Lirael wasn't being tortured anymore. It wasn't piercing through him like it was before, but he was obviously

Dean gripped the wheel of the Impala all the more tightly as Sam got in beside him, and he knew that Castiel would already be sat in the back.

They didn't say anything, but they also didn't have to. They knew where he was going and they finally seemed to understand that they couldn't stop him. This confrontation was going to happen at some point, so it might as well be now.

He put the car into drive and headed in the direction of Georgetown, Colorado.

"Dean," Sam started to say, but Dean gave his younger brother a look that prevented him from saying any more.

Dean glanced in the rear view mirror and saw only Castiel's eyes and their imploring gaze.

He sighed and tapped the wheel with his fingers. "What?"

Sam cleared his throat. "Nothing, man. We're just worried about you."

"Well you don't need to be. I'm fine." Dean replied curtly, turning his concentration back to the road.

"That being said, you are walking into a trap." Castiel said, reaching into the pocket of his trench coat. He pulled out a knife with an ivory hilt and Dean instantly recognised it as being Ruby's knife. "I have also fashioned some more bullets for The Colt. Obviously these won't work on Metatron, but I have no doubt that he will have a number of demons at his side."

"Thanks, Cas." Sam replied, taking the knife and the extra rounds from him.

They weren't far now; Dean could feel it and that was all he could focus on. As soon as they were there, he knew he'd have to pull himself out of his emotions so that he could think straight or he might get himself killed. Too many times had the bad guys used the people he loved to get to him.

* * *

She felt her heart quicken.

He was coming for her.

She smirked slightly at his stubbornness, but she was also afraid. This was what Metatron wanted. He wanted Dean to come to this place, weak and vulnerable, where Metatron could rip away the rest of Dean's soul and destroy it. Even if they were able to restore Dean's soul, Michael would again use him as a vessel and defeat Metatron.

And Dean's soul would again become lost.

She knew from the burning sensation in her belly and the pounding of her heart that he would not survive it again; he was already a broken man. The thought hit her like another stab to her chest and she choked back a cry. She had never been so overcome with emotion as she had been down in this basement. She could tell why God, or Metatron, had put a ban on emotions. She could not think straight, all that she was aware of was Dean and the fact that he was coming for her. It made her dizzy to try to think of anything else, as if all her body wanted her to do was to continue willing Dean to get here and to get here soon.

Pursing her lips together, she tried to regain some composure. At least they would be together soon, no matter how short the encounter might be. All that had mattered to her in these last few days was the hope that she would be able to see Dean again so that she could tell him how she felt.

He was getting closer.

Lirael felt a sudden wave of energy wash through her body. Surprised, she wriggled against her restraints a little and was able to loosen them slightly.

* * *

They were close now, and Dean felt his body stirring back into his conscious control. Glad, he relaxed his shoulders a little and glanced at Sam. "I'm going in first; keep him talking while you guys go round the back. Might as well try to use the element of surprise, gotta take every advantage we can against this thing." Dean explained, keeping one eye on the road and taking a deep breath.

Sam nodded, but said nothing.

Dean felt himself close to smiling; even in the face of the unspeakable evil they were about to face, even when his death was a definite possibility. Only thing he could figure that made all of that okay was that at least she would be near.

As they drove into Georgetown, Dean wondered where she would be. Underground probably, angels didn't feel all that comfortable beneath the earth so it would make sense for Metatron to keep Lirael there at her weakest.

There should have been people milling about their daily lives, but it was deadly quiet as Dean stopped the car outside a liquor store in the centre of the town.

"I can't say this enough, but I really hate it when a town's this quiet." Dean muttered as he got out of the car. He stretched out his arms, noticing how much stronger he felt now that they were finally here. He'd felt weak for so long he'd almost forgotten what it felt like to feel normal.

Castiel tilted his head to the sky. "I must go. I will be back as soon as I can." The angel told them before disappearing in a flutter of wings.

"Great, well there goes our best weapon. So where do we start?" Sam asked as he slammed the car door shut and leaned across the roof.

Dean turned, looking around him. He took a deep breath and sighed. Closing his eyes, he pictured her. He pictured what she looked like the day she kissed him; the day he knew that he loved her and he felt a sudden pang in his stomach. He continued to turn until the feeling got stronger and Dean opened his eyes. "That way."

The feeling in his gut led them to an old industrial estate, where still it was eerily quiet. Dean had expected to have at least seen one demon on their way here, but the sensation in his gut told him they were going in the right direction and that was all that mattered for now.

There was a factory at the end of street, and Dean guessed that that would be the place. The bigger the building, the more places to hide Lirael and the more places for demons to attack them from. He should have been nervous, or at least be filled with adrenaline by now, but his body seemed to get calmer and calmer the closer they got.

As they neared the entrance, five dark figures appeared from one of the gatehouses.

Sam and Dean looked at each other and made their way towards the large gates, which opened as they neared.

The eyes of the five people before them were as black as shadow, and each of them smiling as they spread out. The Winchesters moved with them until they were back to back and the demons had formed a circle around them. As Dean pulled out the Colt and shot a bullet straight into the forehead of the demon in front of him, it was clear that this was to work to the Winchester's advantage. Two of the demons rushed forward, but the two brothers knew how to move together. Sam took a quick step back as the demon rushed towards him and grabbed it from behind. He thrust Ruby's knife into it's back and then pushed the body away. Dean quickly fired again and turned to protect Sam's back. The two of them fought their way through the remaining two demons with ease. Dean had forgotten how natural it felt to fight beside his brother, and he felt himself feeling sharper than he could ever remember feeling before. Each shot he made was with exact precision and accuracy.

Sam wiped his brow with the back of his sleeve and then used it to wipe down the knife. "Can I have the gun next time? You've hardly broken a sweat!"

Dean cracked a smile and tossed Sam the Colt. "That's just because I'm awesome and you're not." Sam snorted and passed over the knife.

The Winchesters made their way into the building slowly, readying themselves for another attack; an attack that never came.

Could Metatron really only have five demons protecting him? Dean almost stopped in his tracks when he remembered who they were up against. This was the guy that overthrew God in heaven and was now in charge of the fiery pits of Hell. He didn't need protection, they needed protection from him. He didn't even need to tire them out, because in reality they had no chance against him. All Metatron needed to do was make sure Dean didn't get his hands on the last remaining parts of his soul, and he could do that by simply snapping his neck.

Terror shook momentarily through his body, but Dean tried to push it away. He thought of Lirael and of the torture and pain Metatron had put her through. He thought of her sweet voice and her bright eyes that saw straight into him and didn't shy away from what they saw. He took a deep breath and flexed his fingers around the knife. No matter how scared he was, Dean was gonna fight his way to save her. He owed the world that much; to save one of the purest things in it and keep it safe.


	8. Chapter 8

They walked through the main floor of the factory, their footsteps the only sound. The aisles were lined with mechanical equipment; probably an old engineering factory for god knows what. Sam looked around, eyes primed to search out movement of any kind; movement that never came.

He had a terrible feeling in his gut that this was worse than a trap. This felt like they were walking to their deaths, and they were doing so willingly.

"I don't like this." Sam said, breaking the silence.

"Me neither." His brother replied, turning to face the younger Winchester. "But I also don't like having a broken soul." They reached the end of the aisle, and Sam saw his brother tilt his head to one side and close his eyes.

Sam shrugged; he didn't really have a come back for that, he had no idea what it felt like. But he had seen how much he had suffered. Dean hadn't even been able to form sentences two months ago. Now he was motivated by a force that Sam admittedly didn't really understand. Even as he looked as his brother now, he saw a determination in Dean's eyes that had previously been saved just for him. A raw, emotive drive to protect and save. A part of Sam wanted to believe it was some sort of spell that Lirael had cast on his brother; because truly, he had never been sure if he was capable of love for anyone else but his family. Plus, they'd barely known each other five minutes.

"It's this way." Dean prompted, leading through a door on their left.

As Sam followed, he tried to remember what it felt like to be in love. A flicker of a memory flashed through his mind, but he knew he would never be able to think of Jess without seeing her burning on his ceiling. He hoped his brother's romance would end more happily, but given that they were walking towards the most powerful being in all creation, he wasn't sure that Dean was gonna get that chance.

Dean's heart was beginning to pound in his chest. Like a drum, it moved him through the factory, quickening as he felt himself nearing her. They moved silently, and with every step Dean felt better. His mind had never been clearer. It wasn't filled with guilt or remorse for the things he had done, not anymore. And neither did his body feel sluggish or weak, his muscles felt primed and ready.

And he was filled with an immense sense of purpose and longing, a longing that bore deep into the shards of his soul and was pulling him like a magnet towards his final end.

It took Dean a few moments to realise that he was now running. He had no idea what Sam was hammering on about in the background, and frankly he didn't care.

He gave a half smirk, proud of himself for proving that he was more than just your average man-whore. Hell, he might even get a relationship outta this deal. That is, if you can have relationships with angels…The thought wiped the smirk from his face, as he started thinking about whether God would give them the thumbs up on the whole no sex before marriage deal, or if he'd have to marry her first. He winced slightly, but then shook his head, trying to refocus on the gigantic pile of crap he knew he was running towards.

The momentum was building; his chest felt like it was close to exploding. He felt like he was about to burst into song he was so happy, Buffy-style, as he hurtled down another flight of stairs.

Taking another intuitive left, Dean and Sam entered a square, concrete-walled room with a long corridor in the far end. Sat in the middle of the room, was Lirael, tied to a chair. She glanced up at him, pure elation emanating from her.

When Dean's eyes finally met hers he felt his heart nearly burst out of his chest.

"Dean!" She cried as he ran toward her. As he crossed the distance between himself and Lirael, he felt his body completely overcome with the same sensation that had plagued him since he had set off to find her. He felt almost fulfilled, complete even. Dean pulled at the metal ropes around Lirael's wrists and together they had the strength to release her from them. As soon as she was free and standing, his hands were on her face as his eyes searched for injury, but even that simple touch filled him with an unbelievable sense of belonging and vitality. That feeling stopped when heard Sam yell.

Metatron had appeared in the doorway behind her and now grabbed Lirael from behind, pulling her away from him before Dean had even blinked. Metatron's huge hands gripped her by the throat and a hefty laugh escaped from his mouth. "You two really are pathetic."

"Let her go. I'll only ask once." Dean growled, taking deep, slow breaths and clenching his hands into fists.

Sam was circling the edge of the room, trying to get behind Metatron, but the angel barely looked at him before waving his hand. With a simple flick of his wrist, Sam was pinned against the far wall, helpless and still. Metatron had no use for an ex-vessel of Lucifer's. He wanted the rest of Dean's soul on a silver platter, nothing else. No distractions.

"Okay, okay, I'll play, Winchester. You want to die in battle. I understand that." Metatron told him, throwing Lirael across the room. She hit the wall with a sickening crack

With a roar, Dean threw himself at Metatron, sending both of them hurtling through the doorway and hitting the wall at the end of the corridor.

Dean pulled himself up quickly, took a quick glance at Metatron who was still on the floor before running back to Lirael. He didn't even have time think about what he had just done, or how he had done it.

"You okay?" he said quickly, checking her over again. Every touch felt like electricity surging through him, filling him with that same feeling of strength.

And she smiled a smile that made his urgency melt. "I'm fine, Dean."

"Not for much longer, my little Lirael." Boomed Metatron from the doorway.


	9. Chapter 9

Metatron's expression was like death itself as he stood, patting off the dust and plaster that was now all over his suit.

Sam struggled against the force that had him pinned, meaning he had to watch his brother try and fight the most powerful entity they had ever come across; with his fists.

Dean turned from Lirael and moved her behind him. "Go try and help Sam." He told her quietly, keeping his eyes on Metatron.

Sam could see Lirael assessing the situation, but she listened to Dean's instruction. There was a small flash of light as Lirael moved further away from his brother, but Sam thought nothing of it. The guardian angel then stood before him, sensing the energy that was pinning Sam to the wall.

On the other side of the large room, Metatron and Dean walked towards each other. The man threw the first punch, but the angel evaded easily by moving to one side, landing a punch of his own into Dean's ribs. They all heard the cracks of several ribs breaking, and Sam wondered why Dean looked so surprised.

Lirael was biting her lip, unsure of whether to help Dean or not. She quickly turned back to Sam and tried to peel him off the wall with little success. "Come on!" she muttered, glancing back at Dean.

Metatron was laughing, he had picked Dean up by his shirt and was holding him several feet in the air. Dean struggled against him, trying to take his mind from the pain throbbing in his side. He felt so weak all of a sudden, how had he found the strength to knock Metatron from his feet before?

Something sparkled around Metatron's neck, and Dean's eyes narrowed with determination.

"You are a silly little man, Dean Winchester. You can't fight against angels."

In the corner of his eye, Dean could see Lirael take a few steps towards him. His lips drawn into a subtle smile, he punched Metatron in the face whilst grabbing hold of the necklace around the angel's neck with his other hand. Surprised, Metatron let Dean go and he fell to the floor.

Dean snorted. "Not so silly now, eh?" He muttered, pulling himself to his knees. He raised his hand, where he held a small vial on the end of a black lace necklace. Metatron's eyes widened as Dean pulled out the stopper and threw back the glistening white liquid into his mouth. Dean shuddered as another piece of his soul entered his body, and he had to use his hands to steady himself. The sensation always made everything a little fuzzy whenever he took in another piece of soul, but today it felt sobering. Everything in his mind was filled with most incredible sense of clarity as he suddenly knew what all of this meant.

Blind fury filled Metatron's entire being. The lapse in concentration meant that Sam was released from the angel's power and fell to the floor too.

Seeing her job with Sam was done, Lirael ran back to Dean and helped him to his feet. Again, Sam saw a flash of a bright white light as Lirael reached Dean. As his brother stood up straighter, even Sam could see that he was filled with a renewed sense of strength and confidence.

Dean looked Lirael straight in the eye and smiled a knowing smile. "One more piece to go." He told her, his eyes glistening with tears that he wouldn't let himself cry.

"One more piece." She replied hoarsely, her eyes sparkling too. Lirael took a tight hold of his hand for a moment and then stepped back.

Sam sprinted towards her. "What's happening?"

Lirael just smiled at him as a tear trickled down her cheek. He then realised that she moved towards Dean every time he moved away from her.

Metatron was rushing towards Dean with a string of punches. With the speed of no ordinary man, Dean dodged every single one. He caught hold of Metatron's fist and twisted it until the angel fell to his knees in pain. "Usually at this point I would try to think of something witty or wildly inappropriate to say, but this is just too much fun." Dean said darkly before kicking the angel in the face.

Castiel then reappeared next to Sam, with a fraught look on his face. "Michael is coming. To use Dean as a vessel once more."

"Tell him he's not needed, Castiel." Lirael told him firmly. "Do it now."

Castiel looked to the ceiling as it began to shake. "It's too late."

"Touch me." Lirael said simply.

"What?" Both Castiel and Sam asked, a bit puzzled by the instruction.

"Both of you; hold on to me." She told them impatiently, holding out her arms as she faced Dean. They each took one of her hands, and Sam saw light crackling around his brother for a short moment.

Dean then kicked Metatron in the face, sending him hurtling through the wall behind him, straight through three solid inches of concrete. He stalked towards Metatron's body and pulled him from the rubble. "Just to warn you now, I'm pretty much an expert at making people suffer. And you made the woman I love suffer. That means I owe you a heck of a lot of suffering, don't ya think?" Dean said, throwing the angel into the centre of the room.

Metatron crawled to his feet, his eyes widening as he looked up at Lirael, Castiel and Sam. When he finally stood, Metatron was positively shaking with rage. "All this time…and the rest of your soul was right here with me the whole time!" He bellowed, turning back to the elder of the Winchester brothers.

Now Sam was just confused. "Could someone please tell me why my brother is The Hulk of a sudden?"

"'cause this son of a bitch made me angry." Dean answered with a smirk, squaring up to Metatron again.

When Sam looked to Castiel for answers, the angel was almost laughing as he spoke. "The reason we couldn't find the final shard of Dean's soul…it was in Lirael all along." Castiel smiled at Sam. "They're connected in a way that I've never seen before. She's able to lend him her energy, and now we're lending ours to her."

The shaking of the building intensified with Michael's approach, and a sharp ringing began to echo through the room. Sam ducked his head, covering his ear with his free hand.

Metatron let out a roar. Raising his arms into the air, he closed his eyes. A heartbeat later Dean found himself in a large marbled hall facing Metatron.

"Oh crap." He said, realising that Lirael was not with them and that tug in his heart was starting up again.

"Indeed." Metatron replied, his lips curling into a dark smile. He moved across the hall, his footsteps echoing all around them. "Without your little friend you're a little more fragile aren't you…"

Dean took a step back, trying to think. A jab of pain suddenly hit him in the chest, and he knew that he wouldn't last two minutes with Metatron without Lirael around. The angel raised his hand and Dean was flung against the hard walls and pinned there.

"Now, I wonder how long it would take me to peel off your skin, strip by strip. And then how long would it take me to remove your organs, one by one…and I wonder how long you would last then…" Metatron waved his hand again and Dean's shirt disappeared. The angel took another step until he was about 2 feet away from his foe.

Dean Winchester had experienced this before, Metatron knew this. He had always tried to avoid this form of punishment, the anticipation waiting for each strip to be ripped off hurt more than the physical pain. He closed his eyes and tried to picture Lirael's face.

When Dean had disappeared, Lirael had let out a wail of pure agony, and then slumped to the floor, barely conscious.

"Cas what do we do!" Sam cried, checking her pulse and whether she was breathing. He sat her up against him. "Castiel!"

The angel was staring over Sam's shoulder. Sam followed his gaze and did a double-take when he noticed Chuck standing at the doorway.

"Hey, Sam." Chuck said, unfolding his arms.

Sam lay Lirael back on the ground and stood up. "Chuck? What're you doing here? Have you seen something?"

"I'm here to help, Sam. Castiel." Chuck greeted with a respectful nod of his head.

"Father." The angel replied, bowing slightly. "Metatron has Dean on another plane, I can't get through. Our only connection to him is also unconscious."

Sam looked from Castiel to Chuck several times.

"Don't worry, Dean is still alive and I can help with your connection speed. It'll be like when I invented optical fibre broadband." Chuck grunted, crossing the room and stopping beside Lirael where he then knelt beside her.

Sam's head was reeling. "Am I missing something?" He shouted. He had done nothing but be confused today, and he was royally pissed about that.

Castiel chuckled. "Oh yes. I forgot to tell you. It seems like my father was a lot closer to us than we had imagined. He never abandoned the mission, he was with us all along."

"As in, Chuck, the prophet, who orders naughty phone calls during the day…who we found passed out drunk – A LOT….is your….he's…"


	10. Chapter 10

"Yes, Sam. I'm God. You can have some time after we've saved your brother to deal with this revelation, but right now we just don't have the time." Chuck told him firmly, his eyes closed as he concentrated on finding the other plane of existence on which Metatron was keeping Dean.

Sam staggered backwards somewhat, but knew that he had to keep his head in the game. They were so close to the end now that he had to try his best to concentrate. He steadied himself, forcing his mind to the task at hand, but how does anyone deal with meeting God? And how hadn't he realised it before? Chuck the prophet was hard enough to swallow…but Chuck the creator? Dean would freak when he found out. Or find it hilarious. That thought made him smile momentarily, and also spurred him into action as he went to Lirael's side, shaking her gently.

"She's still not waking up." He said aloud, mostly to himself.

"Don't worry about her, it's just the shock of being so far away from Dean, they'll get used to it." Castiel said, though there was doubt lingering in his voice.

"Found them." Chuck murmured, opening his eyes and rubbing his beard.

Suddenly he clicked his fingers and Lirael's body burst into life again with a mighty gulp of air. She stood instantly, eyes darting around looking for her other half. "Does he still have Dean?"

"Yeah, 'Chuck', is trying to sort that out for us." Sam explained, his mind still reeling.

With a grunt, Chuck grabbed Sam's arm and Lirael's and pulled them towards him. He pulled out a small dagger from his pocket and, quicker than either Sam or Lirael could react; cut the palms of their hands.

Sam hissed as he pulled his hand away and glared at Chuck.

"You too, Castiel." said Chuck, as he drew the knife along his own palms. When Castiel's hands had also been cut, Chuck continued. "We all have a connection to Dean. Sam, yours is through blood. Castiel, yours is through the destiny that you have been given. Lirael, your souls are now adjoined. I will be the connection to the other plane and to Dean, as I am joined to him as I am all of my children." He said to each of them in turn.

Sam struggled to listen to Chuck speak in such a serious tone, but out of respect kept his mouth closed.

Chuck had them form a circle and raise their arms above their head. He started chanting in a language that was no doubt older than time itself and nodded to them. They connected palms with the person next to them, their blood mixing. An enormous crackle of energy licked the outsides of the circle they had created and as Chuck finished his chant, a large bolt of blue energy created a wall around them and shot into the ceiling above them and beyond.

His ribs were broken, so was his nose. He wasn't sure how many more beatings his skull could take before that caved in. More painful than his injuries was the sensation of being torn away from Lirael and once again enduring the tug of a broken soul.

Dean was close to praying for Death, as he had many times when he was stuck in Hell, but this time he felt like he had something to fight for. If he was in this much agony, Lirael would be too, and this was a strong enough motivator to will his body to stay functional.

Metatron had barely broken sweat. Dean could tell that this beating was not giving Metatron the enjoyment that it had intended to and the force of the hits lessened somewhat. He almost looked bored.

Suddenly, the marble floors began to crack and shake beneath them and Metatron's eyes lit up with excitement.

"I knew he wouldn't be able to resist helping his little Saviour!" The angel said gleefully.

However, this happiness was short-lived when an gigantic crash of thunder clattered through the room and a wall of bright blue electricity shot up from the floor beneath Dean. The wall surrounded him and nourished him. He almost passed out from the enormity of the energy that was surrounding him, he'd never felt such strength surge through his human body and he wasn't sure whether he would be able to take it. His injuries healed instantly and he flexed his hands again, knowing that this was a temporary fix to a Metatron-shaped problem. He got a sense from the energy that there was a part of Sam and a part of Lirael involved, and maybe others, so he knew he wasn't alone.

With a quick exhale, Dean stormed through the wall of energy that had been concealing him from Metatron's beady gaze.

"Round two dick-wad?" Dean asked, his voice loud as it boomed around the room due to his new found power.

The angel growled before leaping into the air towards his foe. Dean did the same and they crashed into each other with a mighty clang as two bodies infused with heavenly powers collided.

Dean chuckled, picking Metatron up from the ground and throwing him against the far wall. The marble cracked and crumbled significantly. He was going to enjoy this.

Dean was faster and stronger during every encounter and attack that Metatron threw at him. The energy still coursed through him, so powerful that it was dizzying, but he urged his mind to stay focussed on destroying Metatron once and for all.

Battered and bloody, Metatron walked towards him defiantly. "This isn't over."

Dean grinned and darted towards him, faking a motion to the right and moving left. He then threw his final punch to the centre of Metatron's chest. "Actually, I think it is."

The other plane that Metatron had created disappeared and Dean found himself, and Metatron, back on the factory floor.

The building had stopped trembling, and Metatron's heart lay beside his lifeless body.

Dean wiped his hand clean with the one clean corner left on his shirt as he walked towards his guardian angel. He couldn't explain how happy he was to be near her, to be close enough to touch her.

He lightly brushed her cheek with the back of his hand. She looked tired. "You okay?"

Lirael nodded in reply, her eyes filling with tears. "Are you hurt?"

"Nah, my new-found angel powers mean I heal real quick." Dean said, rubbing the tops of her arms with his hands.

She smiled. "I'm glad you're so stubborn." Lirael said quietly, taking half a step towards him. "You came to get me."

"I was never going to leave you; it hurts too much to be without you." Dean told her before gathering her up in his arms. He then kissed her with a ferocity and passion that frightened both of them. His heart skipped another beat as he felt her respond in the same way, forcefully kissing him back.

Whenever she touched him, he felt a fiery electricity coursing through him that both excited and terrified him. Their lips parted, tongues colliding as their kiss deepened and they pulled each other closer. A few moments later, they heard a gentle clearing of a throat, and pulled back. They both looked round to see Castiel and Sam with very bemused and embarrassed looks on their faces. Dean was also sure he saw Chuck sneak off down one of the passageways, but his attention turned back to Lirael as he kissed her again.

"Um, we'll, uh, see you guys at the motel…" Sam told them with a quick wave before the two left Lirael and Dean alone.

She laughed, kissing Dean's lips softly once more. It was simply ecstasy to be held by him. Her heart was bursting full with emotion that her body just wasn't used to and she laughed giddily. As Lirael looked into his eyes, this grounded her once more and she found in his eyes a mirror of her own soul. They were connected, and always would be.

Although it existed in two bodies, Dean's broken soul would forever be whole if she were near him and Lirael would do everything in her power to make that happen.

"So, Winchester, you talked about some woman that you loved earlier. What's her name? I need to find her and hurt her." Lirael teased as she tugged at his shirt, trying to keep a straight face.

Dean chuckled, pulling her to him. "Darlin', there's never been anyone else but you." He told her, dipping his head to kiss her lips a thousand times more.

Author's Note: Feedback welcome as this is just a first draft of the ending, let me know what you think!


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